


Terms and Understandings

by twocandles



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Chairs, Episode: s03e03 His Last Vow, His Last Vow Spoilers, M/M, POV Sherlock Holmes, Post-His Last Vow, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Sherlock Series 3 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 17:10:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twocandles/pseuds/twocandles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft, Sherlock and John have a talk. Set shortly after "His Last Vow".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terms and Understandings

**Author's Note:**

> 1) I know there are tons of theories out there questioning whether Moriarty is really back and alive or not. For the sake of telling this particular story I just went with the notion that he is.
> 
> 2) This is the first piece I've written in nearly 10 years because I was driven by an idea that wouldn't leave me. So it's pretty much an experiment and if it doesn't work for you I understand that entirely.

He was everywhere. Covered screens all over the country, made everyone know he was back in the equation. The tables had turned; the game was his, once again.

Even after Sherlock had digested the initial horror over the news the information still made his hair stand on end.  There was no excitement in him anymore, all he felt was the confusion of missing something very obvious. A quiet rage slowly started bubbling up inside him and most of all a sense of dread.

If he was completely honest with himself, Sherlock wanted Moriarty to be toast. Burn him in return. Thankfully his kitchen appliances didn’t have displays, otherwise he would have been sorely tempted to make an example. Yet what a waste of thought and energy; he couldn’t afford that, he needed to focus.

And there was Mycroft, about to make a case for exactly that. Sherlock could hardly wait. His brother had just stepped inside the flat when Sherlock returned from the kitchen but didn’t even bother with a greeting. Sherlock was only back because the circumstances demanded it and while he knew his brother was internally glad for that he didn’t let on.

A quick view along the room and Mycroft walked right up to Sherlock’s chair to make himself comfortable. The resentful look Sherlock shot him didn’t change matters, it only added to Mycroft’s demeanour since he felt all the more validated in his place.

Sherlock took place opposite of him, squirming a little at the unfamiliarity of the feeling.

“Give him half a minute, he’s just opened the front door,” he said, reading Mycroft’s thoughts as he slowly padded the armrest and circled the soft texture with his fingertips.

“Good. I don’t have all day to make my case clear considering the pressing matter at hand.”

A quietness seeped through the room, only disrupted by the sound of footsteps from the stairs. There was a determined pace with which John entered the living room and Sherlock saw the no-nonsense attitude in his face within a second. Probably at the same time Mycroft did but then he assumed Mycroft had expected nothing else.

“You said it was urgent.” John broke the silence in a strained tone, now standing right in front of them. He rested his eyes on Sherlock even though he wasn’t the one who had sent him the message. Clearly he wasn’t looking forward to having this kind of conversation.

“Yes, very well,” Mycroft started but Sherlock swiftly interrupted him. “My brother thinks my judgement is impaired and wants to make sure I don’t mess up the rather important task of catching our favourite puppeteer, also known as the plague of the civilised Western world.”

He consciously left out the most important part and avoided looking John in the eyes. Mycroft would hand him his arse within seconds but he couldn’t resist lashing out just a little.

Mycroft didn’t even bat an eyelash, which surprised Sherlock more than it should have. “I know you’ve been a little out of your depth lately. Or rather a lot, should I say. The thing is,” he directed at John now, “that I can have none of this right the instant when the nation’s security is at stake.”

“Could you make your power and intelligence complex any more obvious,” Sherlock spat and shuffled a little in his seat. His brother’s scrutiny, his superiority, had always made him feel smaller and insecure, it still did to some degree. That and the fact that Mycroft was—

“So, since you are calling the shots now, can we get down to business already,” John aimed sharply at Mycroft and interrupted Sherlock’s train of thought in the process. He stole a quick glance at John, whose face was completely focused on his brother, demanding an answer.

Mycroft, in the meantime, continued. “Sentiment, John. Wouldn’t want it to get in the way again, now would we. You still remember what happened last time.” His drawl held the usual hint of mockery yet his expression was dead serious.

“This means, all plans and deductions will be run by me first and there will be no actions sanctioned before that. Act on your own and I cannot guarantee you any protection regarding the consequences of your doing.” He fixed Sherlock’s eyes during his speech and Sherlock couldn’t help but squirm ever so slightly. Mycroft knew him far too well.

Sherlock remained silent and shifted his gaze back to John, as did Mycroft. John appeared confused at the lack of reaction from Sherlock, so it took him a bit to wrap his head around what he had just heard. “So basically I’m still his keeper and you are mother, only now we get bonus inspections.”

Mycroft lifted an eyebrow and took a quick look around. “Well, since there are no objections I think we’ve got this settled.”

Sherlock spoke up at that. “I’m aware of what’s at stake here, Mycroft.” They stared at each other for a few seconds until Mycroft broke the tension. “I certainly hope so. Now then, I better be on my way.”

With that he got up on his feet and straightened the wrinkles on his suit, shot John a final glance and Sherlock a pointed look. “I’ll be in touch.”

~~~

The moment the front door closed John let out a breath. “Well, wasn’t that enlightening.”

“Was it,” Sherlock said before he could stop himself. He had still mostly avoided making eye contact but felt John’s eyes staring into him so he looked up. His body was still tense and bewilderment written all over his face.

He hadn’t moved yet so Sherlock waved a hand at his now vacated chair. “Sit,” he asked.

John’s reaction changed to befuddlement for a moment and it took him another look at Sherlock and a nod to reassure him that this was exactly what he was being offered. A few steps and he sunk into the leather seat. It was definitely an odd sight. Or rather an unusual one. Yet he looked quite comfortable as he leaned back and placed his arms on the rest.

“This feels different,” John said after a beat. And it did. The sight of him in that chair once more hit home how very large a space John held in Sherlock’s life.

“You were pretty quiet during all of that, you didn’t even argue,” John said, thinking aloud now. “Why would you—”

Sherlock could practically hear the wheels turning when John came up with it. “Because you think he’s right. And you—” Sherlock stopped him before he could work himself into a frenzy. “Yes, John. It’s time to be more careful and rely on all the input I can get. If that means I have to entertain my brother more often than I can stomach in order to not make mistakes, I’m willing to make that sacrifice now.”

The incredulous look on John’s face slowly faded as he replied. “I see the logic there.” Sherlock knew John would come to terms with it eventually, just as he had himself only a little while ago. Logic was a glorious thing.

“So, Mycroft’s way it is, then?” That didn’t take long.

“Indeed,” Sherlock said but he was a bit taken aback by how fast John had accepted the situation. “Of course we’re making it up as we go,” he added nonchalantly, and then something was nagging at him.

“You wanted Mycroft to cut the crap and get to the point. Why?”

Sherlock thought he saw a shadow flicker across John’s face, a small flinch that he couldn’t stop from happening. Curious. John was silent for a while and for once Sherlock didn’t really want to press matters. He was about to wave a hand when the words came out, quietly but without falter.

“Because I didn’t need him to tell me what I already knew.”

Sherlock stopped breathing for a second. Oh. John had caught on then. But he looked torn and haunted now and Sherlock’s heart skipped a beat.

“Didn’t work though, did it.” And with that John’s voice faltered after all.

He tried again after a moment but broke off instantly. “Sherlock…”

Sherlock felt his heart contract. And still, despite all the conflict in John’s face there was a fondness in his eyes that gave Sherlock enough courage to speak.  “We’re going to work it out together. Isn’t that the entire point of this sentiment business?”

It was a struggle to keep his voice steady and he couldn’t quite believe he was saying this but there it was. He tried to pull off a smile and utterly failed at it.

Still quite shaken, John stared at him, and then he gave a nod. And that was enough for Sherlock for the moment.

~~~

There were various players here, new and old, and combined they changed the equation. The game was different now.


End file.
